


Trek To Beacon

by mydefaultisgay



Category: RWBY
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Nuts and Dolts - Freeform, bodyguard/princess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:20:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27491107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydefaultisgay/pseuds/mydefaultisgay
Summary: A runaway princess, her formidable bodyguard, a scythe-wielding optimist, and a Made girl make the trek to Beacon like all hunstmen and huntresses before them. The gods help anyone who tries to stand in their way.
Relationships: Penny Polendina/Ruby Rose, Pyrrha Nikos/Weiss Schnee
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: i took direct inspiration from Crier's War (duology) by Nina Varela with penny being an automa so i thought i should credit that work here. if you haven't heard of it yet then you should fix that right away, it's hella good and hella gay.
> 
> no need to read the book to understand this fic though.

Mantle is nothing like Ruby imagined. Except for the cold maybe, she brought her scarf and favorite pair of winter gloves for that. The cobblestone streets are packed with people rushing about, bumping her every now and then as she zips through the crowd. The closer she gets to her uncle’s friend’s inn, though, the quieter the streets become. And it is when she reaches the block where the inn is located that she lets herself look up to see it again.

 _Atlas_ , towering over the dingy bleakness of Mantle, a scattering of gems atop a hill. At its center is the gleaming royal castle, white as the frozen tundra that makes up most of the kingdom of Solitas. It is a striking image to behold, and Ruby finds herself more in awe than she did the first time she caught sight of the castle from much farther away. But it also feels--

A burly man bumps against her side. "Scram, kid." 

She’d probably catch a cold if she stays outside for too long.

When she reaches the inn, the innkeeper seems to have been expecting her. Or she thinks he did, with his face lighting up the moment he spots her. 

"You must be Ruby Rose."

"How did you--"

"A dusty old crow told me to keep an eye for a girl in a red hooded cloak carrying a huntsman’s scythe," he says, blue eyes sparkling. He looks nowhere close to a friend of her uncle’s. She expected someone. . . broodier, maybe? The man extends his hand. "I’m Clover, best huntsman in Solitas, at your service."

Ruby shakes his hand and gives him a skeptical look. "You’re not the innkeeper?" 

"Hm, not exactly. I own this place but I’m only around when I’m in-between hunts." Clover gestures to one of the tables. "Make yourself at home. I’ll go to the kitchen to let the cook know we have a special guest." 

Ruby snorts. "Me?"

"A family of Qrow’s is a friend of ours." He winks, his grin a little cheekier. "Your sister stayed here too when she made the trek. We had fresh venison that evening. She was all fed and right about ready to take down a horde of Grimm with her bare hands by the time she left." 

"Yup, that sounds like her," says Ruby with a quirk of her lips.

"Well, _you_ must be tired from travelling." Nothing a hearty meal won’t fix though, yeah?" 

Clover leaves and a boy takes her belongings from to be taken to her room. She makes her way to the table, sitting herself down. The place is barely occupied, but the few people that are inside are all huddled together in groups, talking and laughing with one another. Nearly all of them are huntsmen, she notes, their weapons either resting on the table or strapped to their person.

The place is small, but neat and well-maintained with two floors and a fire pit in the middle of the dining hall. There are no mysterious hooded figures drinking by themselves or any shadowy corners where people can surreptitiously conduct their shady business. When her uncle told her the _Lucky Bird_ is a place that weary huntsmen frequent, she didn’t expect it to be. . . homey. The atmosphere is not so different from one of those evenings back home when her dad invited a bunch of his old huntsmen buddies for dinner. The thought brings another spike of homesickness. They’ve been coming to her more frequently the farther from Patch she gets.

Someone’s giggling pulls her thoughts back, darting her attention to one corner of the room. An old man and a girl are seated on one of the small tables near the windows. The girl has her hand over her mouth, laughing against her palm, the man smiling fondly at her. Ruby knows staring is rude but she lets her gaze linger for a little bit. She gets a familiar swoop in her stomach when she looks at the girl. It’s faint, but it’s there, and when the girl finally removes the hand that’s concealing her smile Ruby feels it grow a bit more. 

The girl looks over to her suddenly, catching her eye. Ruby panics. _Did she notice me staring?_ Instead of looking away to pretend she hadn’t been staring she just. . . keeps her eyes fixed on the girl, like a dear in the headlights. The girl’s smile never drops even for a second. She appraises Ruby curiously for a moment, Ruby feeling like her insides are being assessed, then gives her a friendly little wave before turning her attention back to the old man.

"I had a feeling you we’re going to notice her."

Ruby tears her eyes away from the girl and looks up to Clover, who's carrying a tray with both hands and peering down at Ruby. Carefully, he places a plate of roast potatoes and carrots, a large bowl of thick rich-smelling stew, and a loaf of bread on her table. Clover takes the chair across from her. "That’s Penny, by the way, and like you, she’s going to Beacon." 

"Really?"

Clover nods. "Been training her for a while. The kid’s a natural. I should introduce you to her, don’t you think?" 

_Oh no_. "Oh no. . . I mean, it’s fine you don’t--" 

"Penny, come meet a friend!"

"--have to."

"A _friend_ , you say?" Penny says something to the old man, who nods at her indulgently before waving at Clover, and stands from her chair to approach them, practically skipping. She comes to a stop in front of Ruby. "Hello, again." 

"Um. . . hi?"

"Penny, this is Ruby Rose. She’s Qrow’s niece." 

Penny grabs her hand without prompt and gives it a firm shake. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ruby Rose." 

"Nice to meet you too."

Clover grins at them, resting his knuckles under his chin. "Guess what, Penny. Ruby here is on her way to Beacon." 

Ruby watches as Penny’s face grow from amicable to excited in a blink of an eye. She grips Ruby’s hand a little tighter, starts shaking it again and again with growing speed. "How amazing! I’ll be attending Beacon too, in fact I’ll be on my way the day after the next and Clover treated me and my father a lovely dinner tonight to celebrate, which is why we’re here this evening and-- oh, I’m so delighted to have met a fellow future Huntress, this is all so am--"

"Alright, Penny, let the girl breathe." Clover laughs.

Penny obeys with a nod, letting go of Ruby’s hand and primly clasping both of hers behind her. She’s still bouncing on the balls of her feet though, eyes wide with the purest show of excitement Ruby’s ever seen, and Ruby feels her initial embarrassment flutter away.

"Tell you what," says Clover as he rises from his chair, "you keep Ruby company while I talk to your father. I have some suggestions about the minor tweaks to your weapons he talked about last time." He glanced between the two of them briefly. "I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about." 

She watches him walk towards Penny’s father. When she turns back to Penny, she’s already taken Clover’s abandoned seat. "So. . . you want to be a huntress?" Ruby starts, awkwardly. Small talk has always been more her sister's forte.

"I do. It’s a fascinating and noble occupation. I find that the best way I can help the people of Remnant is to protect them, and there’s quite no better way to do it than to be a huntress." Her eyes gleam. "And it all seems so _fun_!" 

"Took the words right out of my mouth, Penny." 

Penny looks mortified. "I have? Oh my, I didn’t mean to. Is there a way for me to put them back?" 

"No, I mean--" Ruby stifles a snort, "--it’s just a turn of phrase." 

"Oh. Sorry. I'm afraid I’m not as well-versed at people talk as I thought." 

"Can’t say I’m any better," says Ruby.

Penny notices Ruby’s untouched plate of food and frowns. Even the little crease between her brows looks cute. "Where are my manners. . . you should be eating before your food gets cold instead of talking to me!" 

"No, I’m glad that you’re here, keep talking." Ruby scoops a spoonful of stew and skewers a potato with a fork, eagerly shoving both into her mouth. She grins at Penny through the mouthful. “Mmph, I ‘an do bofth.”

Penny bursts into giggles, and Ruby’s chest floats with the lush feeling that comes after making a pretty girl laugh.

By the time Ruby finishes her second helping of stew, the two of them already arranged to meet up in the morning to train together, both of them curious about what the other can do. And long after Penny has left and Ruby befriending half the people in the inn’s dining hall, she’s more than ready to sink down on a real bed for the first time in weeks.

"You and my pupil hit it off pretty well," Clover says as they climb up the stairs leading up to the rooms.

"You sound surprised."

"I’m surprised you’re not bothered. Most people do. I’m probably the closest thing to a friend she has." He shrugs. "Well me, my teammates, and some of the inn’s patrons if you want to count them." 

"What do you mean?" she asks, eyebrows cinching.

Clover stops at the top of the stairs and Ruby nearly crashes into him. "You don’t know? Thought you would’ve figured it out by now. I guess now is as good a time as any for you to find out." He gives her a look she can’t read. "Did news about the first Maker to ever create life reach Patch?" 

"Of course it did, it was the talk of the town for a month!" Then, Ruby’s eyes widen. "Wait, you mean Penny--?" 

"She’s the Automa girl, yes. And her father, Pietro, is the greatest alchemist who ever lived. Brilliant man, really funny too." 

"This is. . . this is _so amazing_! I mean, don’t get me wrong it’s a lot to take in, but gods, she's the Automa!" 

Clover beams and tosses her a room key. "She’ll be glad that you think so. Also, third room on the left on the left is yours, kid." 

"I really ought to pay, you know." 

He waves her off then walks back down the stairs. "Don’t be ridiculous, you’re Qrow’s niece!" 

Ruby unlocks and pushes open the door to her room, revealing a single bed and a fire going in the fireplace. Her leather bag and Crescent Rose are placed near the door, and she makes a mental note to give the boy who brought her belongings here a few coins come morning.

As soon as her cloak and boots are off, she plops down the bed and sighs leisurely. Staring up the ceiling, her thoughts land on Penny. Penny, who she barely knows but already thinks is the most fascinating person she’s ever met, even before she found out she was an Automa. Gods, she’s never going to get over how cool that is.

She thinks back to what Clover said about Penny not having friends her age, which seems ridiculous. She knows it has something to do with her being Made but. . . Ruby doesn’t really feel any different after Clover told her, expect that she’s way more impressive than what she first assumed. She’s still the nice, very pretty girl she befriended and wants to meet again as soon as possible.

Ruby’s cheeks heat up at that last thought. She grabs a pillow and smothers her own face with it, and if she’s squealing against a pillow in the middle of the night, at least no one’s going to know about it.

* * *

The sound of a hand hitting the tender flesh of the faunus girl’s cheeks makes Weiss' blood simmer.

"You tipped them off, you bi--" 

"I didn’t! I swear, Adam." The girl’s voiced cracks at the name. "I would never--"

Another vicious slap. The girl whimpers, her hand cradling her cheek. Weiss’ heart clenches with her fists.

"I expected better from you, my love." 

Adam Taurus, the man they came here for, a savage and a murderer by all accounts. Weiss didn’t believe much of what she’s heard about the White Fang’s new leader knowing her father’s habit of embellish stories to his favor. But the sneer on his face as he towers over the kneeling girl in front of him--

"Don’t worry," the girl spat, smearing blood on her cheek as she wipes her lip with the back of her hand. "You weren’t what I expected either." 

Adam Taurus reaches down and grabs her by the face. The light from faraway torches is feeble, but Weiss can still see the way his fingers dig into her pale cheeks, hard enough to bruise. She didn’t even notice herself starting to rise until Pyrrha plants a firm hand on her shoulder. She looks over to her companion and finds the same turbulent urge to apprehend mirrored in those green eyes. But Pyrrha shakes her head at Weiss. Not now, it pleads.

She and Pyrrha are stationed near the main tent of the White Fang encampment they are set to raid. The royal family rarely sends their own to do such dirty work, let alone a _princess_ , but her father is determined to prove a point to her, going as far as sending Weiss on what he calls a field trip to set her mind straight. Her role in all this is nothing but a choreographed maneuver. She’ll face Adam Taurus’ humself with one of the finest warriors in the land by her side to bring the man to justice, though only after the Atlesian forces have finished thoroughly sweeping through Adam Taurus’ personal army.

They’ve been waiting for hours when finally there was movement from the tent. It flapped open, and they hid deeper into the shadows as Adam Taurus appeared, dragging a girl by the arm. He shoved her to the ground, oblivious to the princess and her personal guard hiding right at the edge of the forest surrounding the camp.

A loud explosion startles Adam Taurus enough to let go of the girl. He growls and kicks at the dirt near the girl’s face. The sound of battle and cries of pain grow louder by the second. Still, Pyrrha’s hand roots her in place.

The White Fang leader draws his sword--deep red steel scraping against the scabbard. "I was going to drag this out, make you suffer. But there's no time for that now."

Weiss barely notices Pyrrha covering her mouth with her free hand from the corner of her eye. Her attention is trained on the faunus girl, whose face rippled with fear until--blankness. The girl doesn’t even blink when Adam Taurus slowly raises his sword.

She barely notices the warmth of Pyrrha’s palm falling away from her shoulder until she sees her companion spring out of their hiding spot and right towards Adam Taurus, her spear drawn. Weiss jaw nearly drops. Pyrrha overwhelms Adam easily, quick to use her opponent’s surprise, steel clashing against steel. 

For once in her life, Weiss doesn’t think before she moves.

Figuring that Pyrrha can handle Taurus on her own, she bolts towards the faunus girl and kneels by her side. The girl looks to her, and as soon as she sees Weiss she shakes out of her daze. Her eyes, stark amber against the shadows, clears and narrows.

She catches sight of Myrtenaster in Weiss’ hand.

Contempt flashes briefly in those eyes until the same dreadful calm glazes over her sharp features again--a look Weiss knows too well now. 

"Make it quick," the girl whispers.

Weiss wants to assure the girl that she’s not going to hurt her, that no one is going to hurt her. But. . . she did come here with her kingdom’s army to lay waste on their most radical enemies, didn’t she? She opens her mouth to speak but-- no sound comes out. She chokes on air instead, losing her breath all of a sudden. Her hands grasp at her own throat, desperately scratching her own skin. She can’t breathe. It burns, her lungs freezing over. She can’t breathe.

The faunus girl’s face disappears into black dust, dark shadows creeping out of the trees, from the sky above her, swallows Weiss whole. She tries to scream, to call out Pyrrha’s name. _Pyrrha_. A panic stronger than anything clutches her then. She can’t see her anywhere, can’t hear her. She tries to yell but she feels like she’s drowning in death cold water--

" _Weiss_."

She’s jolted awake by the sound of her name from Pyrrha’s mouth, Pyrrha’s hands cradling either side of her face. She’s leaning so close that her green eyes overwhelm Weiss’ vision.

"Weiss," she says again, more of a whisper now. Her breath is warm.

"Pyrrha? I--"

"I know. It was just a dream." 

Weiss swallows the lump in her throat. Of course it was a dream, she should’ve known that right away.

Weiss settles herself and squelches the remains of her nightmare with a slight shake of her head, squeezing her eyes shut for a brief moment to ground her thoughts. The motion seems to make Pyrrha remember herself. She backs away and relinquises her gentle hold on Weiss’ face.

"Thank you, Pyrrha," Weiss says, stopping an apology from leaping out of Pyrrha’s lips.

Pyrrha sits on the edge of her bed, keeps a small gap between them. It’s how Weiss knows Pyrrha is trying to keep the fragile sense of professionalism, never mind the fact that Pyrrha was the one who initiated to step past her walls in the first place, that Pyrrha already knows her more than anyone. "Was it. . . the same dream?" 

Weiss nods, not trusting her voice to speak.

"Oh, Weiss." There it is again. Pyrrha’s desire to cross the gap she herself inflicted reflected in her eyes. This is the only instance Weiss finds herself wishing someone would just forget about decorum.

"It always the same memory--" she tells Pyrrha, "--and her face, the faunus girl we saved that night, the look on her face when I. . . She gave me the exact same look she had when Adam Taurus was about to-- she was so certain I was going to do the same thing to her." 

Whatever the girl saw in Weiss that night--the unmistakable hue of her hair, the Schnee crest engraved into her armor, the family sword she held in her hand--she saw a monster. 

Finally, like a lungful of sweet air, Pyrrha pulls her close with her strong arms, and Weiss lets herself be held. She sighs against Pyrrha’s shoulder and allows the tears to flow freely. They sink on the bed together, latching onto each other. Two years ago, she never would’ve allowed this utter disregard of personal space or display such weakness in front of someone else, but that was before she met Pyrrha.

It was a rare pleasant day in Atlas when it happened, clear blue skies and nothing but excited cheers from the commoners of Mantle. The nobles kept babbling about it being a sign of good fortune for Weiss and the future of Atlas. Weiss didn’t care about the nice weather or the temporary satisfaction of their people knowing full well it wouldn’t last. She did not care about the tournament held that day knowing she could win if only she was permitted to participate, and Weiss was in no need of a personal guard. She saw the tournament for what it was. Not just a chance for Atlesian nobles to flaunt their riches and throw their gold on wagers or some old tradition to signal peace in the kingdom--it was a political ploy, like most things she’s forced to partake in her life. How convenient, she thought then, knowing her father had probably arranged for his chosen candidate to win in whatever means necessary without any blatant show of unfairness, and he’d likely betroth her to him. She would gain nothing but a spy and a lapdog of her father’s out of this day.

But King Jacques, despite all his cunning, did not expect a girl from Argus to trample on his plans, or anyone outside of Atlas at all.

_The girl, for there has never been a doubt in Weiss that it is a girl behind that golden armor and helm even before they knew of her name, blocks young Lord Hauswirth’s brutal backswing with a counter-stroke. He lunges forward again, but his swings are labored and his opponent doesn’t even look like she has broken a sweat. She’s strong and tall, but also fast on her feet and deadly clever, and before long she manages to distract Lord Hauswirth enough to hook one foot around his ankle and pulls. As he stumbles, she jars his sword out of his grip with a flick of her own, and he fell on the ground with the crunch of metal hitting the earth. Silence blanketed the gathered crowd but it doesn’t last for more than a moment as cheers ruptured through their shock. The victor offers a hand to Lord Hauswirth. He declines the help, manages to pick himself up to storm out of the arena, but no one was paying attention to him at all. All eyes were on Pyrrha Nikos of Argus. Weiss barely registers the sound of her father groaning frustratedly under his breath, her attention caught in a trap as she watches Pyrrha Nikos remove her helm while striding up to stand in front of the dais. And for the first time Weiss finally sees her face, the brilliant red of her hair, her modest smile. . ._

"You’re nothing like him, Weiss," Pyrrha says and Weiss lands back in the present, where Pyrrha is no longer a fascinating stranger but the only confidante she has ever known in her life. "You’re one of the best people I know." 

Pyrrha is too noble to lie, but she has too good of a heart to tell her the complete truth. That her family name has amounted to nothing but a taint, a bloodstained legacy, and Weiss has done nothing to change or break free of it.

Weiss waits for sleep to return. In the morning, the only sign of Pyrrha left in her too large of a bed would be the faint smell of irises lingering in the air still. She takes comfort in the thought.

Her consciousness dips its toes in the sea of slumber, but Pyrrha’s murmuring shakes her awake again. 

"What was that?" she asks, drawing herself back to look at Pyrrha. It’s become rare for Weiss to fail from reading the expressions on her face, but now she finds herself at a loss.

"I want to help you." 

Weiss brushes a hand along Pyrrha’s arm. Her skin is so smooth, her muscles firm, and it's far from the first time that Weiss thinks, if things had been different-- no, she’s won't dwell on it again. "You’re already helping me," she says instead, casting her eyes down. "I should be the one doing more. I know you’re giving up Beacon just to stay here." 

"Who told--"

"No one had to," she says. "You said to me long ago that you’ve always wanted to go there and be a Huntress. I haven’t forgotten." 

"You weren’t supposed to know. . ."

She can’t help the flash of anger from coming to her. "Why? Because you’re afraid I might feel like I’m beholden to you?" 

Pyrrha shakes her head. "I-- I’m sorry." 

The apology was an ice shard lodging itself through her ribs. Try as she might to distance herself from her father, Weiss can’t deny the parts of her that are his through and through, like her temper that could burn like frostbite, or the viciousness she tries to bury in the depths of her soul. A fresh wave of tears wells up in her eyes, close to spilling, and the look of guilt in Pyrrha’s eyes only grows.

Pyrrha opens her mouth to say something, but Weiss stops her. "Don’t," she pleads. "You don’t have to apologize for anything. None of it is your fault. It’s--" She stifles a sob and loses her trail of thought.

"Weiss, I don’t need to go to Beacon. I can help people here, in Atlas. I’m protecting the future queen, the one who will change this kingdom for good. The nothing nobler than that." 

A kinder soul might have nodded and agreed, but Weiss chooses the truth. She can’t let Pyrrha live in that fantasy, she’s been there and it brought nothing but a crushing dismay.

"You know that’s not true, Pyrrha." 

There’s a blunt sort of kindness in honesty, but the look on Pyrrha’s face fails to prove that.

It’s all a farce--her titles, the crown that would be hers--nothing but a dead weight keeping her locked in this gods forsaken castle. Her father will marry her off to an eldest son of a highborn lord he chooses to take his place, and that lucky man would rule. Not her, and certainly not Winter. Her future spreads out before her mind’s eye, a loveless marriage and a lifetime wasting away in her gilded cage.

Unless she chooses to change it. 

"I’ve always dreamt of being a huntress myself," Weiss mutters thoughtfully.

"I know, you've told me before."

She looks at Pyrrha in the eye. "If I ask you to go to Beacon with me, would you?" she asks Pyrrha, sounding surer than she feels.

She’s thought of it before. Running off to Beacon was an impossibility that filled her daydreams, easily brushed off by the reality of her circumstance-- but the idea has never been more solid as it is now.

"I- that would mean we’ll have to. . ."

Pyrrha can’t even get herself to voice it. Weiss can’t blame her, not when her own hands seek Pyrrha’s to stop the timorous trembling of her fingers.

Desperation makes an impulsive woman out of her.

She thinks about her sister and wonders how she came to a decision like the one Weiss is seriously close to grasping. The only thing Weiss knows for certain is the way Winter's decision to leave changed the trajectory of their lives. Not just hers, but Weiss' too.

If Weiss goes through with this, it may very well change her life again, and this time it will be in her own terms rather than someone else’s.

But she won't do it without Pyrrha. 

"I’m bound by oath to stay by your side and protect you," says Pyrrha, but before Weiss can interrupt her again, she continues firmly, “but if you truly wish to make the trek to Beacon, we will do it together. And it wouldn’t be because of some oath I made in front of King Jacques.”

Weiss could kiss her, but-- “Wouldn’t it be asking for too much? He won't just let me go that easy, Pyrrha. What I'm asking. . . It's not as simple as it seems."

“You forget that this is my dream, too. And I’ll be doing it with my favorite person in the world.” Pyrrha’s eyes glisten.

Weiss has done nothing in her current life to deserve her, but she’ll try. One day, she’ll be good enough.

This will be the first step.


	2. Chapter 2

Ruby never enjoyed having an audience. It was something she thought she grew out of, but the familiar uneasiness isn’t so easy to shake off when she really, desperately wants to impress someone. Such is the case when she shows off Crescent Rose to Penny.

Some of the feeling eases away at the wide-eyed look in Penny’s face.

"It’s massive," she says. She traces the edge of the scythe's whetted blade with a gloved finger before handing it back to Ruby. "And the craftsmanship. . . does it tire you at all to carry it around on your travels, though?" 

"It kind of does, but I got used to it. I can do this, too." Ruby flips a metal latch then folds her scythe so the underside of the blade is hidden, its long handle folded to half its length.

"How ingenious!" 

"Nah, it doesn't do anything about the weight." She rests it against an empty sword rack beside her. Only a hustman’s inn would think to place a sword-rack inside a bedroom. "Though it's much easier to carry around like this. You didn’t seem to have any trouble holding it, though." 

"I- um- well. . ." 

"It’s okay, Clover told me last night after you left." Ruby tells her, unable stop a wide grin from slipping. "I didn’t know you were an Automa. _The_ Automa! I bet you’re like a hundred times stronger than I am." 

Penny isn’t as thrilled. Her shoulders and arms droop, looking down at her feet. "I suppose that was inevitable." 

“Hey now, why the long face?”

"I'm not sure you’d want to associate with me for long if you knew," says Penny, still not meeting her eyes. "That’s how it usually goes. I have my father, and Clover, and some people who I encounter here in Clover's inn. But you're-- I figured that-- well, you were being so nice and you weren’t from Mantle and I thought perhaps. . . It was foolish of me, really. I can’t keep _me_ a secret. Not when all of Remnant knows I exist." 

Ruby’s heart cracks a little. Clover’s words come back to her then, the brief flash of warning in his look that she failed to catch then right before he told her about Penny, and inwardly kicks herself for being so indelicate. She changes tacks and settles with a kind, genuine smile.

"I still want to be friends with you, Penny. You’re pretty incredible." 

This coaxes Penny to look at her again. "You really mean that?" 

"Uh, yeah?" she says enthusiastically. "I- at least I think you are-- and not that I doubt it or anything, I just-- I mean-- we just met yesterday and, y’know. . . uhm, you’re great, is what I’m saying." 

Penny surprises her with a crushing one-armed hug. "I think you’re pretty great, too," she says and pulls away. "I very much hope we can become great friends. Even when we’re both at Beacon." 

" _Especially_ when we’re at Beacon," Ruby adds, making Penny giggle. Now or never, she thinks. "About that, I was actually planning on asking you about it. Beacon, I mean." 

Penny cocks her head questioningly. "What about it?" 

"I got to thinking this morning and, well, since you’re going to Beacon and I’m going to Beacon, maybe we can. . .y’know, make the trek together?" 

" _Oh_."

A pregnant pause, a faraway look brushing over Penny’s features. Ruby waits, shifting from one foot to another, growing more unsure with each moment fleeting by.

". . .Uh, Penny?" 

Penny’s eyes shift back to focus again. She blinks once and it lasts a beat too long, too slow for it to be instinct. "I’m sorry, my memory banks were retrieving a snippet of something, a tale my father once told me. I believe your invitation has triggered it." 

She’s pretty sure she knows exactly what story Penny is talking about. Yang read it to her more times than she could count. Ruby blushes at the thought of Ruby making the trek to Beacon with another girl just like in the tale. . . 

"So, Beacon?" 

"Oh, right. It’s a yes! I would love to go with you, friend Ruby." 

Ruby almost sighed in relief. "Great! It will be so--" 

She’s cut off when Penny reaches behind her to gracefully, swiftly, yanks out two scimitars from the scabbards laying criss-cross against her back. The motion so swift, a sharp metallic sound echoing through her sparse rented room.

"Whoa," Ruby murmurs.

"They’re nowhere near as formidable as your scythe, but they suit me well." 

"Are you kidding me? They look like they can cut through _anything_." 

Penny smiles at the compliment and moves her weapons so they’re laid out in her forearms like an offering. The morning light filtering through the window makes the dark narrow blades glint. "Do you wish to try wielding them?"

"Oh gods, I thought I was going to have to ask you, and I was second-guessing that because some people are just protective about their weapons, y’know? It's personal. I mean, I actually don’t mind if it’s someone I know, but you won’t find my sister ever letting anyone else use her gauntlets." She pauses, realizes she’s been maundering, and laughs away the embarrassment. "Anyway, we can swap if you want."

"Brilliant idea!" 

Penny sheathes her weapons and Ruby picks up Crescent, then the two of them make their way down to Clover's small training yard near the inn's stables. It’s a feat that Ruby manages to contain her excitement the whole way.

The place is empty save for one person, a woman. She seems too focused to notice them arrive, firing one arrow after another on a straw grimm with a target on its head. 

"Pyrrha!"

The woman startles and whips around to face them. "Oh-- hi, Penny. Sorry I was just--" she notices Ruby. "Uhm, I don’t think we’ve met before." 

"This is Ruby Rose," says Penny, beating her to it. "She’s on her way to Beacon!" 

Ruby does a vague little wave of her hand in greeting. "Hello, er. . ." 

"Pyrrha Nikos," the woman says. They shake hands, Ruby having to slightly look up just to maintain eye-contact.

"You’re so tall." Ruby winces as soon as the words escape her. "Wait, I said that out loud." 

Pyrrha laughs lightly, not a single mocking note in her voice. She has her hair in a braid hanging off her shoulder like a silken red rope, a milk-white armor that leaves her muscled arms bare. She’s a little like what Ruby imagines Yang would look like if her sister decided to become a knight instead of a huntress.

"It’s nice to meet you, Ruby. Clover made mention of you earlier." 

"Pyrrha is a regular at the inn, but when she's not down here she's up at Atlas being Princess Weiss’ personal guard and the best fighter in the kingdom," Penny tells Ruby.

"That’s so cool!"

Pyrrha waves the compliment off, her face slightly flushed as she slings her bow over her shoulders. Ruby can already tell that she’s as endearing as she’s intimidating. 

"What brings you here on this fine morning?" Penny asks her. "I seem to recall only seeing you around in the evenings, and only at the end of the week at that." 

"The princess is out with Lord Hauswirth and some other friends of his. Thought I could make use of the free time to discuss something with Clover over breakfast." 

Penny hums in thought for a moment. "I can’t imagine Princess Weiss choosing Lord Hauswirth’s company over yours in any occasion. I mean that only as an informed opinion rather than a slight to him, of course." 

Pyrrha’s laugh is a little louder this time. "His Grace arranged it, so it wasn’t Weiss’ decision." 

"I see."

It doesn’t escape Ruby’s notice that Pyrrha just referred to the Atlesian princess by her given name alone. She can’t imagine being friends with an actual _princess_ , but Pyrrha does seem like someone who’s capable of plenty of things.

The three of them chat for a bit until Pyrrha has to leave so she can be in the Schnee castle before the princess comes back. 

They both wave at her, and when she's gone Penny turns to Ruby. She takes out her dual scimitars again, holds them out to Ruby hilts first. "Shall we?" 

She smirks, spinning her scythe once before planting its blade point on the ground. "You needn’t ask me twice." 

* * *

"There’s nothing better than a day spent watching your idiot cousin and his idiot underlings poke blunt swords at each other while having tea with Princess Weiss herself," says Neptune as he leans back, the front legs of his chair coming up off the ground a little.

Weiss rolls her eyes. She has trained herself in a way that there’s little she could want by way of friendship, but sometimes she makes exceptions. Her companionship with Pyrrha is the one she takes the most liberty of, obviously, and the only one she’d keep if worse comes to worst. But whenever her father has her ushered off to one of these chaperoned poor excuses of a _date_ with Hugo Hauswirth (which is utterly pointless by the way, given the fact that his father seems to have already decided that she's to marry that airheaded good-for-nothing dunce), Neptune Vasilias is a good ally to have.

It makes the whole occasion a lot bearable when you have someone to share creative insults to Hugo’s expense whenever the idiot is out of earshot.

"Why couldn’t Father have favored you instead? My life would be a lot easier." 

Neptune glances at her, the threat of a smirk in the slight quirk of his lips. "How so?"

"You’ve no political aspirations whatsoever--" she says with a mischievous smile, "--and at least I wouldn’t have to pretend to like you in whatever convoluted way a wife should like her husband." 

"Because I’m already well aware that you don’t, and never would, like me in such a way?" 

"Precisely."

"Poor me." Neptune chuckles before bringing his cup of tea to his lips for a sip. He hums appreciatively. "Gods, this is really good." 

"It's a new brew that came straight from Mistral."

"That explains it. You Schnees might be as dull as your castle, but you sure know good tea." 

"I could have you mutilated for that you know." 

Neptune takes another sip of his tea. "I miss Haven. I can't wait to get back there and have tea as good as this one without the threat of mutilation hanging over my head. In the form of a princess, no less." 

"You just miss that _friend_ of yours. What’s his name again? Sun, was it?" 

"The light of my life." He sighs. It’s playful, but Weiss catches a little of the hefty emotion behind it. She imagines having to part with Pyrrha for months on end and stops before her mood plummets.

A boisterous, uncouth laugh breaks their peace. Weiss barely manages to stifle her groan.

"Did you see that, Your Highness?" Hugo calls out to her. He has Cardin Winchester on the ground, a boot on his chest keeping him down.

"Very impressive, Lord Hauswirth!" Weiss lies through her teeth primly. 

Hugo grins wickedly at her, then back at Cardin. He steps off his friend’s chest and laughs again as Cardin struggles to get back on his feet. Hugo is the type of person who hasn’t grown out of his boyish self-assuredness, instead he allowed it to mold him into a man of little substance and copious arrogance.

"I hate how he overcompensates when you’re around. The second-hand embarrassment and repulsiveness of it all make my skin crawl." He shudders. "Where is Pyrrha, anyway? At least watching Hugo make a fool of himself is funny when she’s here." 

"You know he doesn’t want her around on one of these. . . things," she tells him, sipping her tea to hide half of her face behind her cup.

"Betrothal foreplay, you mean."

Weiss nearly chokes out her tea. She gulps down hard before she says, "Never say that ever again or I _will_ have you thrown down a frozen lake." She cough a little.

"Fair enough. That wasn’t one of my best. But seriously, Hugo’s displeasure at having Pyrrha by your side during your be--" 

Weiss cuts him a glare.

"--arranged meet-ups didn’t stop you before. If I’m not mistaken, I believe you found it quite amusing, showing her off and smacking Hugo’s greatest failure to his face."

She really should have made up a better excuse.

"I’m not in the mood to antagonize him. I’ve a lot to deal with as it is." 

Neptune doesn’t push it, to her relief. 

She can probably tell him about her plan. He might even help her. Neptune's the type of person to do something like help a princess run off to Beacon. He’s probably one of the people who can understand her position, who knows what it’s like to want to escape a place that’s always been more of a prison than a home.

But he’ll end up being collateral damage. Weiss is already risking too much by dragging Pyrrha into all of this, but at least she’ll be coming with her and be safe once they arrive at Beacon, where her father has no power over. No, she won’t gamble with a friend’s life and leave him to potentially take the fall.

She can only hope her running away would help Neptune realize that there’s nothing worth coming back to Atlas for, not when his parents will never accept him for who he is, what he wants to be. She hopes he’ll decide to stay in Mistral for good and never look back. As infuriating as he is, Weiss believes he deserves that. 

"Weiss?"

"What-- get your hands away from my face." 

"Sorry, you just. . . went somewhere for a second there. While staring at me." Neptune throws a flirtatious smile her way. "Don’t tell me you’re falling for me, princess. Wouldn’t want to break your heart, mine's already spoken for unfortunately." 

"You're the worst." Weiss gives his shoulder a rather hard shove, though she's smiling, and so does Neptune. She thinks he'll be one of the few things she'll miss once she leaves thus frozen hell behind. 

…

Weiss finds Pyrrha waiting for her in the royal wing, standing guard near the door to her rooms. Her eyes flicker briefly to the hand holding onto Hugo’s arm.

"I had a wonderful time, Your Highness," Hugo husks as Weiss removes herself from his side.

"It was a pleasant day, and you showed great skill." 

Hugo grins in a way that makes Weiss’ stomach curl, takes her hand to brush his horrid lips to the backs of her fingers. His stubble irritates her skin and she fights the shudders that almost came over her. With his head still bent, mouth still inches from her hand, Hugo drags his gaze from her face down to her chest for the briefest moment. Before Weiss could even draw a breath or speak, his gaze has moved to the side, searching Pyrrha’s no doubt.

He finally draws back. Squaring his shoulders, he says, "Till the next time, Your Highness." 

Weiss stares after him as he saunters through the corridor, her fists clenching so hard she’s sure it will leave crescent marks on her palm. When he finally turns a corner, Weiss takes Pyrrha by the hand and throws open the door, all but shoving her inside before shutting it closed. She ushers Pyrrha to her bedchamber and locks the doors once they’re inside, out of sight and earshot of anyone.

"Did--"

"I--"

Pyrrha smiles. "You first," she says. Always the first one to concede.

"I was just going to ask how it went."

"Really well. He’s going to help us."

Weiss nearly collapses her weight against Pyrrha in relief. "Did he mention his price?" 

"He’s not asking for anything," Pyrrha says, sounding as if she’s still stunned by it herself. "He says he’s willing to help anyone who wishes to go to Beacon. Some huntsman code of his, I believe." 

"Are you sure we can trust him?"

"Clover is a good man, and he hates your father. He--" Pyrrha hesitates with a breath. "He said he helped Winter get to Ironwood’s base."

 _So that’s how she got away_.

"When do you think we should leave?" 

"That's another thing we spoke about-- Ironwood will be here tomorrow."

"What?"

"It's supposed to be a secret and only the king and his closest advisors know. But Clover has some of his old teammates still working for the General. Their party is on the way to Mantle right now.”

"That means. . ." _Winter_.

"Your sister will be here, yes," confirms Pyrrha. "And the whole castle will be busy to pay heed to you." 

It’s true. Her father would always have her stay out of sight whenever he has military allies over (or old enemies, in the case of Ironwood). And given the effort he’s put into severing all her communication with her sister, he’ll probably want her to stay away from Winter as well. 

As much as she wants to see Winter again, Weiss probably won’t have another opportunity like this in the near future. And if she does succeed in getting to Beacon, she’ll have ability to send a letter to her, or arrange to meet her, or anything really. It’ll all be worth it in the end.

"It’s okay if you want to wait."

Weiss shakes her head. "No, we have to do this now or we’ll risk losing our best chance at this." 

Pyrrha’s squeezes her hand and it steadies her. She looks up to find green eyes looking at her with parts concern, parts pride. And something like relief too, just swimming beneath the surface.

Pyrrha wants this as much she does.

"Then I’ll be with you every step of the way." 


End file.
